l i g h t s
by PandaChubz31
Summary: The Golden Trio may be popular, but they weren't the only ones who attended Hogwarts.
1. Prologue

"Wing, Dylan."

The last first year waiting nervously in the Great Hall was finally called up. Her long red hair rolled down her back like flames. Her cloudy gray eyes were filled with warmth, comfort, and right now, utter fright. She sat down on the stool, closing her eyes as the Sorting Hat was placed upon her head. It took a moment before belting out;

"_GRYFFINDOR!_"

She broke into a huge smile, opening her eyes and walking to the applauding table.


	2. Chapter One: Mingling in Potions

I walked into Potions, one of my least favorite classes of the day. Sure, I loved the subject, but I absolutely loathed the teacher; Severus Snape. I hated it even more when he decided that Granger, Longbottom, Potter, and Weasley spent too much time being partners. Of course, I was given the gift of Harry Potter as my Potions partner. All sarcasm intended.

I'd never given the boy much thought. He was a star Quidditch player, the best seeker since Charlie Weasley, the Boy who Lived, and his hair stuck up in the back. He seemed like one of those popular people, so I'd taken care to avoid him. I didn't fit in with populars well. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil had tried to befriend me, but there was too much makeup and braiding for my liking.

He sat down next to me, not speaking until they were given directions to make a potion; Cure for Boils. "Hey," he said. "Dylan, right?"

I only nodded, beginning to sort ingredients, eyes flashing to the textbook every few moments to make sure I was getting it right. I tried my best to be smart. To be top of the class like Granger. Yet she outdid me at everything I tried to do. It was frustrating.

He seemed to sense that I wasn't really one for talking, and apparently decided that meant he needed to talk more. "I'm Harry."

"I know," was all I said as I emptied snake fangs into my mortar, picking up the pewter and beginning to crush them.

". . . Listen, I'm sorry."

I paused, looking at him in confusion. What was he sorry for? He'd known me for five years. Well, known of me. He never talked to me, even though I was a substitute Seeker, Keeper, and Beater, and had played with him in at least four games.

He sighed then continued. "I'm sorry for never talking to you. You just seem like the type who wants to be left alone."

I hesitated then continued crushing the fangs, choosing my words carefully. "You seemed like a popular who wanted nothing to do with me." He didn't say anything, so I continued. "I wasn't great enough, I think. I was good. I'm good in classes, good in Quidditch, good in wizard chess. Never great, though, like you, Ron, or Granger. Your little trio seems to be made up of only great people."

I looked at him. He seemed to be mulling it over in his head, staring at the cauldron, until he looked at me. "You're right." I blinked in surprise. "You're right," he repeated. "I'm really sorry, but I'd love for us to be friends and get to know each other."

I raised an eyebrow, emptying four measures of the now-crushed fangs into the cauldron and heating it for ten seconds. "That sounds very un-popular of you," I said quietly. He shrugged modestly, until I realized that he wasn't like most of the populars at all. He was very nice.

". . . Do you want to hang out in the kitchens tonight?" he asked. "We could do our homework and talk to the house elves."

Harry Potter wanted to hang out with me? Dylan Wing? A short little redheaded fifth year girl who could be confused easily as a Weasley? What do I say? What do I do? _It's Harry Potter, Dylan, _my inner voice said. _Say yes. _I smiled, lowering the temperature. "Of course. I have a good house elf friend. His name is Dobby; do you know him?"

Harry grinned broadly and nodded. "Yes, I do, I set him free."

I pointed my wand at him - eleven inches, English Oak, unicorn hair core, surprisingly swishy - and smirked. "Everything seems to be linked to you." I turned back to the potion, waving my wand so it began bubbling. It turned a light gold shade; perfect. "Will your two lapdo- friends be there?"

Despite my rude almost-comment, he began chuckling. "Probably. I do agree with you, though, they follow me a lot. Well, Hermione. Ron's my best mate."

I nodded, thoroughly surprised; again. I was silent for a moment then decided to say something extremely obvious and stupid. "You met him on the train in first year." Really, Dylan?

"How do you know?"

"I was in the compartment across."

This time, he pointed his wand at me. "You seem to be everywhere yet invisible."

"Well you never did acknowledge me, did you?" I asked, trying not to sound bitter.

He only shrugged, looking up when the bell rang as the signal for class ending. "See you tonight."

"See you."

I walked out of the dungeons, feeling slightly elated. I was hanging out with a po-. . . With Harry Potter! This was surely going to be interesting. I faltered. _What would Layla say_?


	3. Chapter Two: Denials

I walked into my dorm room cautiously, heading to my corner and placing my bag down. Layla had her radio on, the Weird Sisters blaring through the room, and was doing Charms homework. She looked up as I wandered in.

"Hey, Dyl," she said, brushing some black hair from her face. She had a pixie cut, which fit, because she was as dainty and petite as a pixie, but was rather uncharacteristically tall.

"Bridget or Amy been in?" I asked nonchalantly. We hated our third and fourth roommates. They'd moved their beds closer together and gotten the corner with the window, and poor Anastasia, our fifth and final roommate, was crushed in the corner opposite them.

"No," said a voice from said corner. "They're out with Dean and Seamus." Speak of the devil. I turned to Anastasia. She had wavy brown hair to her lower back and warm chocolate brown eyes. Everything about her was nice and comforting.

"Figures," I said.

"Ready to join in the homework club?" Layla asked glumly. She'd been my best friend since first year, while Anastasia had been the antisocial one until third year. I couldn't bring myself to lie to them.

"Well. . . You know Harry Potter?"

"Who doesn't?"

"He asked me to study with him in the kitchens tonight."

Anastasia promptly dropped her History of Magic textbook. "He _what_?"

Layla openly stared at me. "No freaking way! When did he start talking to you?"

"Well thanks, guys," I said, rolling my eyes.

"You know we don't mean it like _that_," Layla said. "He never talks to any of us."

"We got put as partners in Potions," I said sheepishly, wondering if they'd be mad at me. My thoughts were interrupted when Anastasia smiled warmly. I swear, that girl had no mean bone in her body.

"That's great, Dylan, I hope you have a lot of fun! Tell Dobby I said hi."

"Alright," I said, smiling. I checked my watch. I didn't have to go until seven. It's six-thirty. "I've got half an hour. Wanna sit in the common room?"

They nodded and we migrated down to the common room. We sat table with two couches on either side, and armchairs on the other sides. Anastasia took an armchair, Layla taking the other. I shrugged and sat down on the couch. I helped Anastasia with an essay until Harry came down with a confused looking Ron and Hermione. He looked around then spotted me, smiling.

"Ready, Dylan?"

I nodded and got up, bidding farewell to my two best friends and walking over, pleasantly enjoying the look of bewilderment on Hermione's face. It was obvious she had a crush on Harry, and for some reason ruining her mood made me joyful. _Not that I liked Harry. . . Nope, never. . . Right?_

* * *

I sat with Harry at a table in the kitchens. Ron and Hermione had left awhile ago. I bit into a cake happily, scribbling on my roll of parchment about giant wars. Harry was talking to house elves about getting us some tea. All was well.

I finished my essay with a flourish, smiling broadly. "Yes! Finally done! Take _that_, Binns!" I was interrupted from my proud yelling by chuckles. I looked over at Harry. "As if you're never proud when you actually finish a History of Magic essay."

He sat down across from me, shrugging. A few house elves handed us a tray of tea. We smiled at them, each taking a cup. I sipped mine happily as Harry began to speak. "Did you notice Hermione throwing you those dirty looks?"

I nod, setting my teacup down. "A lot of people throw me dirty looks, Harry, even more so when I'm around you. Romilda Vane kept trying to pull my hair after Potions."

Harry raised his eyebrow. "When I took a friend to a party she thought we were dating and stopped.. Maybe if-. . . Nah, that's stupid."

"What is it, Harry?"

"I was gonna say that if she knew you and I were dating, she'd stop."

I looked at him quizzically. "Are you suggesting that. . .?"

"More like fake dating, I mean, to get her off our backs. You know?"

I nodded in understanding, though my heart dropped a bit. _Stop it Dylan, you know he'd never really like you, it's not like this is a huge surprise._ "I guess that makes sense. So do you want to. . ."

"Yeah, sure," Harry said. "I've never had a girlfriend, so a fake one is good practice."

I laughed. Harry smirked at me.

"You have a pretty laugh," he said quietly.

I half smiled. "Thanks, I _guess_."

"Well, ready to go make it fake-official?"

I stifle my chuckle with my hand, nodding. "Of course, _honey bear_."

"Woah, _sugar cakes_, when did we agree on nicknames?"

I just rolled my eyes and packed my things, walking out of the kitchens. He trailed behind me. We walked up to the common room, lacing fingers before we gave the Fat Lady the password and stepped in. I tried to hide my nervousness, instead looking down at our hands. His were larger and his palms were calloused, probably from Quidditch. Even though I played a lot, mine were miraculously smooth. My nails were plain and not special at all. I suppose they defined me; not special. Not out there. Not brilliant, like Hermione. Not clever, like Ron. Not amazing, like Harry- _quit it, Dylan! He's your _fake_ boyfriend. He'll never like you that way, he's Harry Potter._


	4. Chapter Three: Pain

There wasn't one person in the whole Gryffindor Common Room who didn't stare. Some people, including Dean, Seamus, Neville, Ron, Anastasia, and Layla, began clapping and cheering. The happiness was broken, however, by Romilda Vane throwing a chair. I raised my eyebrows at her, and she just stalked up the stairs, growling savagely. Everybody shook it off, walking forward to congratulate us. Harry had wrapped his arm around my shoulders.

He's really good at acting, I thought, watching him smile and thank people. People began chanting "kiss!". My face flushed red, but he smirked and leaned down, kissing me softly on the lips. I kissed back by instinct, though inside I was saddened. The kiss felt like cardboard. There was no joy or love, not that I should've been expecting it.

After awhile of celebrating, I slipped through the crowd and escaped up to my dorm, sighing and throwing myself onto my bed.

"Tired from the party?" Layla asked inquisitively, one eyebrow perked.

"You and Harry are so cute together," Anastasia said.

I rolled my eyes, opening my mouth to tell my best friends that it was all fake, then Bridget and Amy walked in. Bridget's long curly blonde hair flowed behind her perfectly. In fact, I would've found her pretty if it wasn't for the cake of makeup. Amy was even worse; her outfits composed of almost all pink. She'd even convinced Dumbledore to let her get pink school robes.

"Congratulations," Bridget sneered. "But Potter wants you to come back downstairs to meet his friends. They insisted on meeting the future Dylan Potter."

Amy let out a shrill giggle. "That makes him sound _gay_!"

I rolled my eyes, bid Anastasia and Layla a helpless glanced, and was ushered downstairs, where the party was still raging on. I was pushed down onto the couch a bit too close to Harry and a butterbeer was shoved into my hand. I was still in a daze when Harry laced his fingers with mine, efficiently making me come back to earth.

"Guys," Harry announced. "This is my girlfriend, Dylan Wing."

"Isn't she in our year?" Seamus asked.

"Yeah," Neville said. I smiled warmly at him; Neville was one of my only guy friends. He was obscenely nice to me while everyone else acted as if I was a patch of carpet.

"Do you two know each other?" Harry asked. We nodded feebly. "How'd you two meet, then?"

I smirked, looking back to Neville. "In first year he sat with me and Layla on the train because we 'looked just as nervous as he was.' It was hilarious; Malfoy came in and made fun of his frog."

"Dylan hexed him," Neville said proudly. I chuckled and nodded.

"What hex did she use?" Dean asked attentively.

"The Tongue-Tying curse," I said, smiling broadly. Harry laughed along with everybody else. He was looking at me rather fondly. I looked at him in confusion and he just shook his head, looking back to Dean.

Eventually, Ron showed up with Hermione. She looked at me coldly, and I tried to resist flipping her the bird. "Did you need something, Hermione?" I asked innocently.

Her eyes narrowed and she pulled out her wand, aiming it at me. "Crucio!"

My eyes widened in shock. I braced myself, snapping them shut, but I didn't feel any pain. Instead I heard yells and groans from a very masculine voice. I opened my eyes only to see Harry withering on the floor. How stupid of me, I hadn't even felt his hand leave mine. I dropped onto my knees next to him, face contorted with worry. I then looked up at Hermione, who was staring with her wand still raised. Ron was on the other side of Harry.

"What the bloody hell!?" I screamed, eyes narrowed in rage. I practically ripped her wand out of her hand, chucking it across the room, then looked back to Harry, who was slowly calming down, curling up. Neville looked as though he was about to throw up.

"Harry," I whispered, one hand on his shoulder. "Harry, it's okay, I'm here." It may seem as though I was playing the good girlfriend act, but this is real. I was, in reality, terrified. _Was Harry going to be okay?_ I watched him slowly open his bright green eyes and sit up, wrapping his arms around me. I returned the embrace, burying my face in his chest. "Don't scare me like that," I choked out past the tears rolling down my cheeks. "Why would you take that curse for me?"

He grunted, one hand in my hair. "I'd take any curse for you, Dylan."

"Even the Killing Curse?" I prompted, curious to hear the answer.

"Well yeah, but I might live. Just warning you."

I laughed softly. We dropped our arms and looked to Hermione, who was horrified.

"_Harry, I am so-_"

"Spare me," Harry said coldly.

"I didn't mean to hit _you_!"

"Trying to hit my girlfriend is just as bad," he growled, standing up. "With _that_ curse no less."

Ron stood up as well, reaching out a hand to help me up. I took it gratefully and got up, thanking him under my breath. He whispered a hasty "no problem" before turning to glare at Hermione. Suddenly I felt bad for the girl. Sure she'd used an Unforgivable Curse on the boy she had a crush on, but everyone was starting to yell at her at the same time. Eventually, she was dragged off to Dumbledore's office by a stone-faced Ron and surprisingly strong Amy Tantrex.

"You all right, mate?" Dean asked Harry. He only nodded, one arm around my waist. I wasn't worried about him at this moment, instead looking to Neville.

"Come here," I said quietly. Neville obliged, shuffling over and staring at the floor. As far as I knew, only Anastasia, Layla, and I knew about his parents. I hugged him briefly. "It's all right. Okay?" He nodded and went up to his dorm.

"What was that about?" Seamus asked.

"Personal stuff," I said softly, looking to Harry. "Are you sure you're alright, Harry?"

He nodded. "As long as I'm with you." Then he gave me the most sincere, loving look that made my heart melt. Had I been standing, I probably would have fallen down. Then I realized once again that this was an act. The love part, anyway. I put on a false smile and kissed his cheek.

"Well I'm going to go to bed," I said quietly after a few minutes of silence. Everyone said a feeble "good night" as I walked up to my dorm, collapsing onto my bed. Neither Anastasia or Layla looked at me; they'd probably been eavesdropping from the stairs and knew exactly what happened, deciding not to ask any questions. I curled up under my blankets, one thought running through my head.

_Harry Potter took the Cruciatus Curse for me._


	5. Chapter Four: Crap

**Hey guys! It's Jade, and I just wanted to give a HUGE thank you for the follows and favorites you all have given me. :) It inspires me to write another chapter when I get these, and reviews would help as well! When I see the little message in my inbox on yahoo saying someone's reviewed, favorited, or followed, my heart elates. It truly does make me happy, so thank you guys so much! :D**

I walked into Charms. Flitwick announced that we'd need to be in groups of five. I sat with Anastasia and Layla, surprised to see Ron and Harry come over. I'd expected them to join Neville, Seamus, and Dean. I smiled at them as we were told to work on the _Aguamenti_ charm on a match. Ron began taking to Anastasia about Quidditch, to which I rolled my eyes. Anastasia loved Quidditch just as much as I did, but she never liked to boast about it, making her seem like a mediocre player. Layla kept to herself, eyes narrowed in concentration. I turned to Harry.

"Listen," I said quietly. "It was nice what you did, but you don't have to get too extreme when it comes to the boyfriend act."

He opened his mouth as if he was about to say something then closed it, nodding. "I agree with you, it's an instinct to protect my friends. . . Want to study tonight?"

I nodded. "Sure."

Together, we practiced the charm. Eventually, I got water to fly into his face. I giggled hysterically while he grumbled and did the same to me. My laughter ceased immediately.

* * *

I walked into my dorm to be greeted by yells; Bridget and Layla were arguing again. It seemed serious, though.

"-stole him from me!" Bridget shrieked. I saw her hand twitch. I stepped closer as Layla retorted coldly.

"It's not like he _wanted_ you in the first place."

Bridget's hand whipped out like a snake. I shoved Layla aside, taking the slap for her. I held my face for a brief second before looking back to her, attempting to summon the look of cold fury Layla got every time anybody took her paintbrush.

Anastasia shrieked and jumped up from her bed. "_Dylan!_"

Bridget stared at me. "Dylan, I-"

I shook my head. "It's fine, Bridget, just don't do it again. . . Let's keep _peace_ in this dorm."

Everyone mumbled their consent. I smiled happily and picked up my bag. "And where are you going, _Peacemaker_?" Layla asked.

I turned to give her a knowing smile. "Oh, just the Common Room." I was surprised when Anastasia got up, grabbing her bag as well. "Um, Anastasia, it's kind of a-"

"No, I understand, Dylan, but I'm meeting somebody." I just nodded and we walked downstairs to the warm, glowing Common Room. I spotted Harry sitting at a table with Ron across from him. I sat next to Harry, even more surprised at seeing Anastasia drop down next to Ron.

"Hey, Ron," she said, pulling out a few textbooks, an inkwell, and her sugar quill.

"Hey, _Ana-banana_," he said, plastering a crooked grin on his face. I'd only seen that grin two times in my life; when Granger had kissed his cheek, and when he saw Fleur Delacour last year. I looked to Anastasia in utter confusion, but she just shook her head and smiled, beginning to speak to Ron about their DADA homework.

I turned to Harry. "Hey, Harry-"

"Dylan, I can't do this anymore."

My heart plummeted thirty feet and crashed against the hard ground, shattering into a million miniscule pieces. I stared at him in confusion, trying to keep the sorrow out of my eyes.

"I feel. . . _Strange_. I don't feel like how somebody should feel in a fake relationship." He had submersed to a whisper, as to not let Ron or Anastasia hear. "I. . . care too much, you know? I think I'm starting to- _What happened to your face, Dylan_?" He said the last few words in a very panicky, rushed voice, bringing his hand to the already-formed bruise on my face.

I inwardly groaned, "I'm not quite sure of the whole story. . Anastasia?"

She lifted her brown eyes from the textbook. "_Oh!_ Oh, uh. Bridget and Layla were arguing and Bridget tried to slap Layla. Dylan took the hit."

"Oh, Dyl, you didn't have to do that," he said quietly.

"Stuff happens. . . You didn't have to take the Cruciatus curse for me, but you did, and it's done." I realized that my voice was abnormally hard and throaty. It took me a minute, then I figured I was holding back tears. I sighed; I never cried. The last time I cried was when I was six and broke my arm. Instead of crying, I flew. It was as simple as that. When I was up in the air, I didn't have a care in the world. All my thoughts left me and I was left feeling free as a bird.

He went silent then sighed. "What I was saying before, I-"

"I get it, Harry. . . We're over. I'll make sure to spread the word. Guess the negative attention was getting to you." I bit my lip and gathered my stuff, hurrying back up to my Common Room. I felt all three of them staring at me as I half-ran, the tears finally flowing down my cheeks. It was just my luck when Anastasia realized this, whispered a quiet "be right back" to Ron, and jogged after me. I collapsed on the stair in front of our dorm door, burying my face in my arms.

"What is it, Dylan, what's happened?" Her voice was soft and imploring. I instantly felt guilty; it was obvious that she had a crush on Ron, and I was just pulling her away from more time with him.

"It's nothing, Anastasia, I'm fine. . ."

"Bullshit."

My eyes widened; as long as I'd known Anastasia, I'd never heard her curse. Well, until now. In a rushed voice, I revealed to her all the feelings I'd grown for Harry over the course of our fake-dating life - two days - and how he'd decided to break it off. As I said all of this, my voice shook and cracked frequently. Soon afterwards, I was reduced to a sobbing, sniveling weakling, bawling my eyes out as Anastasia held me in her arms, whispering comforting nothings away into my ears. Her hands stroked my hair and patted my back.

That was when I realized that Anastasia was indeed my best friend. Layla would have gone straight downstairs and began to beat the pulp out both Ron and Harry, neglecting the friend in need up here. I looked up into her warm chocolate eyes and smiled.

"I love you, Anastasia."

She took a moment to think of if I meant this as a sister or a friend, then just smiled and continued to stroke my hair.

Crap.


	6. Chapter Five: Fight or Flight

I decided to skip all my classes, instead staying up in the dorm room, listening to the sounds of birds, the wind, and Quidditch practice from the window. I sat on the cushion just outside the pane, my nose buried in a Muggle book - _Of Mice and Men_ - as I tried to ignore the obvious fact; Harry Potter had ended his fake relationship with me, Dylan Wing. It's not like I should be surprised. He is Harry Potter, after all. He's famous. Most girls would _kill_ just to date him for a day.

I looked up when I heard the door to the dormitory open, expecting to see Bridget or Amy, who skipped classes frequently. Instead I saw Layla, holding a tray of food and drink. My mouth instantly began to water; I'd skipped breakfast and lunch.

"I told McGonagall I was checking on Flynn in the hospital wing," she said happily. Flynn was her little brother in Hufflepuff, who very recently got into a Quidditch accident. "But I went to the kitchens and brought you some food."

"You're an angel sent from heaven above," I whispered hoarsely as she set the tray on the table. I sat down, leaving my book by the window, and began helping myself to sandwiches, pumpkin juice, tea, and pudding.

"Aw stop, I'm blushing," Layla giggled. "But what's going on with Anastasia and Ron? They were practically courting over a textbook."

"They like each other," I said thickly; I'd just bitten into a sandwich. "They're probably just too shy to ask each other out."

"Well if Harry was brave enough to ask you out, I'm sure Ron is."

My heart instantly dropped. The thought I'd been trying to avoid all day; Harry Potter. "Uh, yeah," I said quietly. "We've broken up."

"_WHAT?!_"

". . . We've broken up," I repeated, taking a sip of tea.

"Why? How? When?" Her large blue eyes stared imploringly into mine, so passionate I had to look away at one point.

"I - we - . . . The negative attention was getting to us," I said softly, trying to hide the sorrow I felt. "It was a mutual decision to end the relationship. We didn't want either of us to - . . . To get hurt. . ."

But isn't that why we started this whole nonsense in the first place? I asked myself quietly. To keep each other from getting hurt? Though we did end up hurting each other instead. . . You can never win, I guess.

Layla frowned. "I'm so sorry, Dyl," she said, patting my hand.

I just shrugged and returned to eating. "You don't have to be, I'm not sad about it." _Liar._ "It was a mutual decision, we were very mature about it." _Liar._ "I didn't really like him that much anyway. . . Too much Gryffindor pride." _Bloody liar!_

"You have Gryffindor pride too," she pointed out. "Plus you're dangerous. Last time I tried to borrow one of your books you nearly murdered me then and there."

I rolled my eyes. "That's with _books_," I stressed. "They're one of the only places I can go when I need to just get away, you know?"

She just nodded. "I better get back to McGonagall before she sends a search party," she said, grinning wickedly. "See you later, Dylan, and you better be in classes tomorrow!" With that, she left, not bothering to look over her shoulder; she already knew I was glowering. I doubted I'd be able to get out of bed tomorrow, much less go to classes. Then again, I figured that Anastasia and Layla would just drag me out of bed, I fished my schedule out of my pocket and read down it swiftly.

_Muggle Studies - Burbage_

_Divination - Firenze_

_Potions - Snape_

_Lunch_

_History of Magic - Binns _

_Herbology - Sprout _

_Care of Magical Creatures - Hagrid_

I let out the breath I'd been holding in. I only had Potter for one class tomorrow, and even then I could ignore him. It was a pretty quiet class. I finished off the last sandwich and got up, grabbing my book and walking down to the common room. I sat alone reading for awhile until people very gradually poured in.

"_Dylan!_"

I gritted my teeth. Drats. I'd been hoping not to hear that familiar voice again. Then again, I was sitting in the Gryffindor Common Room, one of his many hangouts. Very forcibly, I lifted my eyes to look into the bright green ones of Harry Potter. "Hello."

"Can we talk in private?" he whispered. I reluctantly agreed. Before I knew it, we were sitting in an abandoned classroom. Well, I was. He was pacing nervously back and forth, wringing his hands and cracking his knuckles, apparently thinking hard.

"I. . . What I said last week. . . I didn't. . ." He looked at me and sighed. "I didn't mean I wanted to break up. I meant that I. . . ThaIwanedtamaeitreal."

I blinked. "Erm. . . What?"

He cursed under his breath, realizing that the last few words came out in a quick slur. "I - I meant that I wanted to make it real."

My jaw dropped and smacked against the floor loudly. Okay, it didn't, I may have been exaggerating. I felt like a deer in headlights. I had no idea how to respond to that, so I did the only sensible thing I could think of.

I ran.

* * *

My feet were aching by the time I got to the Quidditch pitch. I'd snatched my Cleansweep and was about to mount it when I heard footsteps behind me. Panicking, I mounted and kicked off into the air, soaring high above the pitch. I looked down, seeing that it was Harry, who was now headed to the changing rooms, probably to grab his Firebolt. Groaning, I found a secluded spot under the stands, hopping off my now-hovering broom and sitting down.

I buried my face in my hands. Did I just reject Harry Potter? And was he chasing me?


	7. Chapter Six: Blue Eyes

**Hey guys. I just wanted to post a quick warning on this one, as there are some controversial words/topics in it. Thank you again for all your support! :) **

"Dylan."

I inwardly groaned; he sounded mad. What I wouldn't do to just melt into the ground and be a blade of grass. Very reluctantly, I looked up into not Harry Potter's green eyes, but Ronald Weasley's blue ones. I blinked very slowly, staring at him.

"Why are you here?" Oops, that came out a bit too rude.

"Harry returned to the Common Room half an hour ago. I've been looking for you for ages."

"Why?"

"He loves you, Dylan. . . At least, I think so. 'Stasia does. The look on his face when he talks about you is hilarious."

I smirked at his joke, shrugging. "I don't think he _loves_ me. Did you know about us faking?"

"Yeah," Ron said. "He told Hermione and I." I cringed at the mention of Granger, and so did he. "I'm sorry for what she did," he added. "She didn't mean it, she let her feelings take control."

I looked at him, channeling all my depression into the single gaze. "Why does she hate me?" I asked him softly. He looked as though he'd seen a puppy being slaughtered.

"I don't know," he answered. There was a long moment of the loudest silence I'd ever heard until Ron spoke up again. "Dinner starts in half an hour. We should get you back."

"I don't want to face him," I said, frowning at my own cowardice. I'm a Gryffindor for god's sake, we're supposed to be brave and loyal! Instead of making fun of me, Ronald gave a simple nod.

"I understand that completely, Dylan, but I'm not letting you starve. Come to the Common Room. You can sit with me and 'Stasia."

"Do you love her, Ron?" I asked quietly.

He hesitated, his ears getting slightly pink. "I don't know," he answered honestly. "I really don't know. I'm getting these mixed signals from her. She's. . . different. I really do like her though."

I nod and break into a small smile. "She doesn't have the ability to be mean," I joked.

"I noticed that," he said vaguely. "She's only nice, or sympathetic, or just silent." I nod again, brushing my red hair from my face. It's different from his, a bit darker. The only thing other than my cloudy eyes that don't make me look too much like a Weasley, not that I'd mind. Ron's sister Ginny is an okay friend of mine. She's a lot closer to Hermione, though.

After another silence, Ronald cleared his throat. "If we go now you can go straight to dinner, then to bed."

"Okay." We left the pitch, heading through the large double doors and strolling into the Great Hall together. I looked around nervously for Layla and Anastasia, finally locating them near the middle of the table - next to Harry. I let out a sigh, looking at Ron. He gave me an encouraging smile and walked over, sitting next to Ana. I settled down in the only open spot; between Harry and Layla. I looked across the table at Ron, only to find that he was stuffing his face. I rolled my eyes, striking up conversation with Layla about Muggle Studies. Layla, being a pureblood, always loved to hear about Muggles.

Anastasia kept looking between me and Harry. I glanced at him, only to see that he was staring at his very, very empty plate. I suddenly felt overwhelmed with guilt, panic striking through me. Rather promptly, I forked steak onto his plate, then shoved a goblet of pumpkin juice into his hand.

"Eat," I said firmly. He looked at me for a moment, then back to his plate, beginning to eat. Smiling to myself, I looked around. I don't have a very wide selection of friends, I thought to myself. Not that I need more than I have or anything. I just feel rather nice tonight. That's when I spotted him. A Ravenclaw, our year, if I remember correctly from Double Charms, with shaggy brown hair and soft brown eyes. He was sitting at the very edge of the table, talking to a girl definitely younger than him with straggly blonde hair and wide, protuberant eyes.

I stared at the boy whose name I could not recall. I swore, he could be Anastasia's long lost brother. I looked from Anastasia then back to the boy. Mustering up the Gryffindor courage I'd been lacking, I stood up and strolled over, sitting down next to the boy. He set down his sandwich slowly, looking to the girl across from him, who was openly staring at me.

"Hello," I said kindly. "You looked as though you might need company, and I didn't quite enjoy where I was sitting. I'm Dylan Wing."

"Luna Lovegood," the girl said, smiling. She looked to the boy, who was now staring at his plate. "That's Griffon Wediger. He's rather shy." I frowned a bit. Anastasia's last name was Charleston. "Is something wrong?"

I looked up, smiling and shaking my head. "No, I just thought Griffon looked like one of my friends, Anastasia."

He looked at me for a moment before finally speaking. His voice had a casual yet caring tone to it, making me smile a bit wider. "She's my cousin."

I glanced to the table I was formerly sitting at, seeing each and every one of my friends - and Hermione - staring at me. Except for Harry. He was staring down at his plate. Anastasia, unlike the others, had a small smile on her face. I returned it then turned back to my new friends. "Well it's very nice to meet you both."

"Likewise," Luna said happily. "I'm only in fourth year, though." I nodded at my suspicions being correct; she was indeed younger.

I glanced at my watch, inwardly cursing. Lunch was over in five minutes. I looked to them both. "Well, I better be going. It was fun sitting with you guys, count on me doing it again. See you in Double Charms tomorrow, Griffon!" With that, I returned to my table, grabbing my bag then exiting the Hall. It wasn't long before I heard quick-paced footsteps behind me.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I wheeled around, expecting Layla, Harry, or Ron. I was shocked to find that is was none of the three aforementioned, but Hermione. "_What_ are you playing at?" she demanded.

"I don't know what you mean," I said truthfully.

Her brown eyes narrowed. They weren't soft and kind, like Griffon's and Anastasia's, but cold and mean. "You know what I'm talking about. First you reject my best friend when he says he wants the relationship to become real, then you leave the table to hang out with Loony and Loner?"

"_What did you just call them?_" I wasn't aware of my voice raising until people were staring at us. Me, halfway to the marble staircase, and Hermione just footsteps away. There was a crowd forming.

"I called them their rightful nicknames, Loony and-" She was cut off by my hand making swift contact with her face. The back of my hand anyway. I could see my new friends' faces in the crowd, eyes wide. My other friends were staring the exact same way; spare Anastasia. She was suppressing a laugh.

Granger held her face then looked up at me, eyes big as saucers. Half of me expected her to pull out her wand and use the Killing Curse on me, but she just swept past me, running up the staircase. Harry broke out of the crowd to run after her. Everyone stared at me. I just took a deep breath, searching the crowd once again. I locked eyes with Layla, who nodded and grabbed Anastasia. Together, we walked up the staircase, not stopping until we flopped down on our beds.

"What the bloody hell was that?" a voice asked. I looked up to see Ginny, accompanied by Bridget and Amy. Her eyes were narrowed and she was clutching her wand.

I looked up from my bed, frowning. "I'm sorry, I know she's your friend. Something just came over me, I shouldn't have-"

"Yes you should have, and you did," Anastasia said, an edge rising in her voice. "That boy was my cousin, who is like the brother I never had. Insulting him and his friend Luna was not a nice thing to do."

Ginny stared at Anastasia for a moment. "Well. . . Fine, I guess I get it. If someone called Hermione a Mudblood I'd be on them like that."

Anastasia nodded. With a quiet goodbye, Ginny left. Bridget looked at me rather approvingly, making me raise my eyebrows. "What?" I asked nervously. She just shook her head and sat in front of her mirror, pulling out her makeup.

"We just had dinner, what are you getting ready for?" Layla asked.

"I'm sneaking out with Dean tonight," she said happily.

"Since when did you and Dean Thomas get together?" I asked a bit more harshly than intended.

"We're not together, we're just. . . Sex isn't dating," she finished quickly, applying a layer of mascara to her already too large eyelashes.

Layla rolled her eyes, turning to her own mirror to wipe off her makeup. It was silent for a moment, until she spoke up again. "Anastasia, do you know any pain-relieving charms?"

Anastasia blinked and nodded. "Why? What hurts, Lay?" Panic and worry rose into her voice quickly. Layla shook her head, insisting that it was just a headache. Anastasia stood up and walked over, pulling out her wand and holding it to Layla's temple lightly. "Welleseum." Layla's beforehand grimace of discomfort melted into an expression of sheer relief. She opened her eyes and gave Anastasia a brief embrace to thank her.

I sighed, laying back and yawning. My eyes flickered to Ana as she returned to her bed. "How are things with you and Ronald?" Everyone froze, turning to look at the girl.

Anastasia looked up, blinking then shutting the curtains around her bed, her voice coming out very muffled. "There's absolutely _nothing_ going on," she said. Even with the sound distorted, it was clear that her voice was a bit higher. I rolled my eyes and pulled my own curtains shut, settling in for another dreamless sleep.


End file.
